A Fine Father
by HaloFin17
Summary: One mother's loving prediction that never does quite come to pass. Feanorian family fluff, Maedhros centric. Please enjoy!


**Summary: **One mother's loving prediction that never does quite come to pass. Feanorian family fluff, please enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **Despite my un-ending love and adoration for these characters and so many others in Middle Earth, I still must say they all rightfully belong to Prof. Tolkien.

**Author's Note: **Well, inspiration is a fickle friend, it seems; for after quite a long span of having hardly any story ideas, I recently had about three dumped on me all at once, and what follows is the first of those. I guess I just can't get away from Tolkien, lol, and why ever would I want to? But before I move on to the story itself, I feel I must take a moment here to send a shameless shout-out to my dear friend **feenekks **whose stubborn persistence that the Sons of Feanor are actually really cool finally paid off. Chica, I think I can agree with you on that now, at least for when they're younger, but I'm still not so sure about them once they've all grown up. We'll have to talk more on that later, I think. But now here you go with the fic, everybody, and I hope you enjoy it!

**A Fine Father**

In the early hours of Telperion's full light, Nelyafinwe Maitimo, eldest of Feanor's seven sons and high prince of the Noldor in Tirion, finally closed his silver eyes. An unusual silence blanketed the dim sitting room, and he relished it. For once, not even the strains of his brother Makalaure's harp could be heard echoing through the house. It was peaceful, and a very special moment indeed. Unfortunately, he could not enjoy it alone.

A soft cooing sound made him crack one eye open, and a lazy smile spread across his handsome features as he gingerly shifted the precious burdens in his arms. Ambarussa – both of them – were happily asleep against him, one in each of his arms with their identical red heads resting on his shoulders. Each faced him, identical thumbs inserted into identical mouths while their lips moved in a methodical sucking motion.

Maitimo looked back and forth between the twin toddlers, so deceptively innocent in their sleep, and sighed. Even he still couldn't tell them apart – only his mother seemed able to tell Pityafinwe from Telufinwe. Perhaps it was some special gift unique to the maternal nature that blessed her with such uncanny insight? Or perhaps he would simply never know.

For his part, he was just happy they were both finally asleep, and the house was silent. Makalaure was away visiting kin at Alqualonde, and the Terrible Three – Tyelkormo, Carnistir, and Kurufinwe – were apparently asleep. He probably had his mother to thank for that, as well.

But the twins were motionless now, so Maitmo leaned his head back against the chair where he was comfortably situated. His eyes drifted shut once more. His arms were on the verge of falling asleep under the twins' deadweight, but this blissful tranquility was such a rare luxury that he did not dare risk disturbing them. Usually he had to run off and take refuge with his cousin Findekano to enjoy such peace, and those times were sadly few and far between. But tonight, for once, everything was just right here and now.

The tall prince was just about to doze off when a familiar, gentle hand graced the top of his head.

"How adorable, Russandol – with their hair, they look like they could be your own."

Nerdanel's voice was appropriately soft yet proud – proud in a manner Maitimo had so often longed to hear from his father. But of late, Feanor typically reserved such praise for young Kurufinwe, who was already showing himself to truly be his father's son.

"You will make a fine father someday, Maitimo, my love," his mother encouraged. "You certainly have plenty of practice."

Maitimo chuckled softly in response and tilted his head back to look up at her. "A bit too much practice, perhaps."

Smiling, she lovingly smoothed his coppery hair as is a mother's wont, and said, "The rest of your brothers are already asleep. Would you mind putting these two down for the night, as well? Your father is still out in his forge, and there is something I must speak with him about right away."

Her eldest son nodded his compliance, and Nerdanel leaned down to kiss his forehead in appreciation before slipping out of the room as noiselessly as she had come.

When she had gone, Maitimo turned his gaze down to the twin Elflings on his lap. And with a mischievous smile that belied his age and position, he whispered, "I hope they don't make any more of you while she's out there."

**Author's End Note: **Well, there you have it: short and sweet, but hopefully the thought of a nearly full-grown Maedhros still getting stuck with the babysitting duty is enough to warm your heart, especially with winter starting to settle in for many of us. Thanks for reading, and I plan to be back with another soon!


End file.
